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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27776149">You’re in a car with a beautiful boy</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherrywhine/pseuds/cherrywhine'>cherrywhine</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Castiel/Dean Winchester Mutual Pining, Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, Cuddling Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Comes Out, Drunk Dean Winchester, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Sharing a Bed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 00:00:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,456</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27776149</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherrywhine/pseuds/cherrywhine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Cas arrive at a shitty motel where they have to share a queen bed for a few nights. On the very first night, Dean proceeds to get drunk and come out to Cas.</p><p> </p><p>Planning to do probably four chapters of me writing my absolute favourite trope - sharing a bed. Title is based off of my favrourite Richard Siken quote, but if you’re gay and emotional like me, you probably already knew that.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel &amp; Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>124</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Night One</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“We’re here,” Dean grumbles, stepping out of Baby and squinting at the setting sun shining on their home for the next few nights. A small sign hangs next to the front door of a brick office, it’s blinds drawn tightly closed. Extended sideways from the office is a bunch of rooms. Around 20 maybe, Dean thinks. Surely a motel in a town as small as this wouldn’t need 20 rooms, but Cas informs him it’s actually booked out. Huh. Cas has the keys to their room, number 16, and Dean taps his feet against the dirt as he waits for Cas to get his bag out of the Impala. Dean has his slung across his shoulder already, feeling the handle of one of his daggers burying itself into this rib cage. </p><p> </p><p>Dean is a little taken aback when Cas doesn’t squint in the sun as he unlocks the door. He forgets that Cas is, like, an angel and shit. Stepping into the room, Cas holds the door open for Dean. “Thanks.” He doesn’t meet Cas’ eyes. </p><p> </p><p>It’s a cheap hotel room, with bleak white walls, a queen bed with a red cover, a tv, and not much more. There’s a doorway leading to a tiny bathroom, illuminated bleakly under the sunset. Dean immediately dumps his bag on the bed and heads to the kitchen, looking in the fridge for a beer. If he’s going to be sharing a bed with Cas for 4 days, he’s gonna need an ample stash of alcohol. The fridge is empty. What else did he expect from this shithole? </p><p> </p><p>“I’m heading out.” Dean shouts as he walks back towards the Impala. Cas barely has time to comprehend what he’s said before the front door slams behind him. Sheesh, Cas thinks. Someone did not regain consciousness on the correct side of the bed, and consequently is experiencing an onset of negative emotions. Or, as the humans say, woke up on the wrong side of the bed.</p><p> </p><p>While Dean is out, Cas tries to settle into the motel a little. Even as an Angel he feels uncomfortable in stagnant, liminal  places such as this. He opens the blinds, turns all the lights on, sets the t.v. to a channel playing animal planet, and lays on the bed. Dean’s bag is next to him, heavy on the linen sheets. He thinks about unzipping it, touching his soft clothes, even pressing it gently against his nose and inhaling the scent. Dean’s scent. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>He stops his thoughts in their tracks. He knows Dean well enough to know he values privacy more than the usual human, and Cas would do <em>anything</em> to make sure Dean feels comfortable around him. Especially in a situation like this, Cas thinks to himself as he pats the bed absentmindedly.</p><p> </p><p>Cas wonders why Dean is acting so strangely today. Sure, Dean is often grumpy and snappy, but Cas can sense there’s something different about it today. He barely spoke on the drive here, not even anything about how nice Baby drives, which is extremely odd. Cas hopes Dean can get over whatever it is while he’s out - no doubt at the local pub - before he returns. Although Cas doesn’t need to sleep, he would like to lay down for a short period of time without Dean’s angst stinking up the bed. </p><p> </p><p>Cas doesn’t really know how to describe his friendship with Dean. Are they even friends? Sure - but it’s different than how Sam and he are friends. He doesn’t know how else to say it; it’s <em>deeper</em>. More profound, as he himself once said. He loves Dean, and he has for a long time. Cas knows angels weren’t supposed to develop any feelings at all, most importantly not <em>love</em>, but that plan was ruined the second he pulled Dean from hell. Really, that second: his hand touched Dean’s shoulder and it felt like the very atoms that made up his vessel were reborn. He really didn’t believe in love at first sight until he met Dean. He had tried multiple times, with several female counterparts, to force onto other people this bond - this love - that he feels for Dean, even having sex with a few women, but to no avail. Sex wasn’t even as exciting as humans made it out to be. Cas wants to think about how it might be different with Dean, with two male bodies intertwined, but he doesn’t let himself. He closes his eyes and listens to the voice of the narrator on animal planet bouncing off of the empty walls. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>★彡</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Dean’s not even sure why he’s mad. He just is. Three beers in and he misses Cas just a little bit. He orders a fourth. </p><p> </p><p>“You alright, man?” The bartender puts one palm on the bar and leans towards Dean. “You seem like you’re drinking to drown out your emotions. That’s never good, buddy.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean looks up at the bartender. He’s handsome in a dark, mysterious and broody way, but he has a kind close-lipped smile on face. He’s dressed in black jeans and a grey t-shirt, which Dean is assuming is the uniform for this bar. A kitchen towel drapes over his muscular shoulder. </p><p> </p><p>“I don’t want to talk about it.” Dean shrugs, trying to play it cool. His insides burn from the alcohol and, if he’s being real with himself, from the feelings he’s repressing. The bartender sees him swallow down this burn and raises an eyebrow. “Fine. My partner… friend, whatever, we work together - we’re here for four nights and the motel only has one room available. So we’re sharing the bed.” </p><p> </p><p>“So? Ive shared a bed with a few of my mates, you just stay on your side and it should be fine. Unless he sleeps naked, because you don’t want to deal with the whole morning wood scenario.” The bartender chuckles to himself, like sharing a bed with your friend is the most normal thing in the world, like talking about morning wood with a stranger is the most normal thing in the world. </p><p> </p><p>The issue here is that, well, Dean might not mind a bit of morning wood, on his or Cas’ part. But he wasn’t about to admit that; to himself, to this random guy in a bar, or to Cas. <em>Ever</em>. Dean is a pro at repressing feelings. When he doesn’t reply, instead staring at his drink and swishing the liquid around, the bartender lifts one eyebrow. “Unless that’s… uh… what you’re wanting?”</p><p> </p><p>Dean felt an uncomfortable feeling of shame settle in his stomach. This is the first time in his life that he has ever, <em>EVER</em>, let himself be in a position where someone views him as anything other than straight. It’s scary. He’s always been a macho-type man, and according to today’s world, especially in towns as small as this, you can’t be LGBTQ and macho. </p><p> </p><p>“I’ve never let myself even think about it…” Dean trails off, but it’s clear that he has. He’s thought about it too much. He’s spent so many nights dreaming about what being with Cas would be like - just truly <em>being</em>. He’s had sex dreams too, sure, but he wants Cas in another way, mostly. In a <em>deeper</em> way. His head falls into his hands and he exhales in shame. “How can I even be in the same room as him when I’m… like this? I can’t even look him in the eyes!” </p><p> </p><p>“It sounds like that’s a good place to start then, man. You don’t have to start carrying around a gay flag wherever you go. Just let it happen, whatever it is.” He leans forward and puts a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “It’s pretty clear that you’ve got something serious going on for this guy. Don’t let your insecurities or worries get in the road. It’s not often that we feel that way about someone.” </p><p> </p><p>Who the fuck is this guy? Some all-knowing genie? All Dean can reply with is a weak sigh, “I know.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>★彡</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Dean knocks on the motel door timidly before twisting the handle and stepping in. The lights are all on, thankfully, as the sun is long gone. Cas is laying on the bed and the t.v. has some weird show about rhinoceroses playing. Cas sits up quickly as Dean steps in the door. </p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Cas,” Dean says as he takes his boots off. He stumbles a bit as a result of his alcohol intake - was it five or six beers? Could also be four, or even seven. Who knows. Cas replies just as Dean continues. “Dean-“</p><p>“Listen, Cas, I-“</p><p>Dean blushes and scratches the back of his neck. Cas brings his eyes from the floor to Dean’s eyes. Cas’ face is soft, and Dean thinks about running his hand along his cheek. He blinks himself out of it. Cas smiles, “You go.”</p><p> </p><p>”I’m really sorry about earlier. I’ve just been thinking about a lot of shit lately, and I took it out on you. And you didn’t deserve that. So, yeah. Sorry.” </p><p> </p><p>“It’s okay, Dean. I understand.” Cas is forgiving as always. Dean sighs and realizes he’s still standing awkwardly in front of the door. He shuffles over to the bed and sits carefully on the edge. Right on the edge, as far away from Cas as he can get. At least he has a little bit of self control left. </p><p> </p><p>“I don’t think you do, Cas.” </p><p> </p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p> </p><p>”You know exactly what I mean.”</p><p> </p><p>To be truthful, Dean actually isn’t sure if Cas knows what he means. And what he means is this: he likes Cas. Hell, even <em>loves</em> him. But he chokes down a sob everytime he thinks about it; how will he ever say it, or act on it? Cas deserves all the love in the word and more. He’s a fucking angel, after all. Surely he won’t settle for someone as perpetually fucked up as Dean, right? </p><p> </p><p>Cas raises his eyebrow at Dean’s remark and moves a tiny bit closer to Dean on the bed. “I’m not sure that I do, Dean.” Dean mirrors his actions as Cas continues, “Enlighten me.”</p><p> </p><p>There’s a certain kind of tension in the air and Dean doesn’t know if it’s romantic, sexual, or just the regular tension that comes with the hunter lifestyle. Whatever it is, he doesn’t think he can move forward without saying what he got <em>so</em> drunk to say. </p><p> </p><p>“You know how we’re, like, best friends, Cas?” Cas nods encouragingly. “Well, I think that we, um, at least from my end, might be, um… a different kind of friends. You know?”</p><p><br/>
Cas is patient and understanding as Dean rambles on. “You know you can talk to me about anything, Dean. You don’t have to be nervous.”</p><p> </p><p>A little weight lifts off his shoulders because deep down, even if he confessed and Cas didn’t accept who he was or didn’t reciprocate the feelings, Cas wasn’t the type of person to just leave Dean like that. They’d still remain hunting partners, at least. Dean’s chest stung a little at the thought of losing what he had with Cas, after everything they’ve been through together, losing eachother time and time again. It only makes him more certain that this moment of courage is the right thing to do.</p><p> </p><p>“Cas, the truth is that I… I haven’t always only liked girls. Like, sometimes I look at a guy and I’m like, damn, he’s hot as fuck, you know?” Dean’s knees are knocking together with nervousness as he speaks, and Cas furrows his eyebrows together. “I’m not straight, or whatever. I think I’m bisexual.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m impartial to your sexual or romantic relationships, Dean. It does not bother me with whom you engage with.” Dean sighs at Cas’ robot answer, and Cas senses that he wants more, letting his guard down. “Thank you for telling me, Dean. You know that nothing like this could impact our friendship. I’ve got your back, as humans say.” </p><p> </p><p>Cas sends Dean a small smile, and Dean returns a much larger, toothy grin. It must feel so nice to get this off his chest, Cas thinks. Then Dean launches forward are wraps his arms around Cas, enveloping him in a warm, tight embrace. Dean buries his head in Cas’ neck as he feels Cas reciprocate the hug. Their chests are pressed together, but their long legs separate them, knees knocking from where they sit on the mattress. Dean thinks he can feel Cas rubbing his back slightly; comfortingly. Dean inhales. He didn’t think he’d ever be brave enough to confess this to Cas, but then again, he was drunk. </p><p> </p><p>“I hope I don’t regret that tomorrow.” Dean chuckles as he pulls away, his vision a little blurry - from the alcohol or quit tears, he’s not sure. Cas is smiling contently when he pulls back, resting a hand on Dean’s shoulder and rubbing slightly. </p><p> </p><p>“I know you’re drunk, but I hope you remember this in the morning. I’m really proud of you, Dean. I know how hard it can be to open up to someone like this, especially for you. Thank you for trusting me.” </p><p> </p><p>Dean is really, truly touched. Literally - he can only focus on one thing at a time in his drunken state and it’s Cas’ hand on his shoulder. He reaches up and put his hand overtop. What Cas said did mean a lot, though, and he knows he’ll remember it - Cas basically just told him he loves him using different words. Dean just wonders if it’s in the same way he loves Cas. Love. Huh. Alcohol does funny things to your ability to repress emotions. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>★彡</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Cas gets into bed first, and even though he doesn’t actually need to sleep, he kind of wants to. Just to feel some sort of human connection to Dean after such a big revelation. When Dean is finished in the bathroom, he flicks the light off, stumbling through the dark to their bed. Woah - <em>his and Cas’ bed</em>. He could get used to that. Dean feels along the end of the bed when he reaches it, accidentally grabbing Cas’ feet. He laughs, shaking them a little. “Gotcha!”</p><p> </p><p>“Get in here, you.” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Dean doesn’t waste another second. His head hits the pillow and he’s facing towards Cas and in the dark he can see that Cas is facing him, too. He can see the rise of Cas’ cheekbones, his eyelashes blinking slowly, his lips parted slightly. His hair is fluffy and the blinds are still open and a streetlight is shining beams of bronze and gold through his hair. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>They don’t do anything that night. When Cas notices Dean’s breath evening out and his eyes fluttering shut with exhaustion, he reaches his hand up to Dean’s cheek and strokes it gently. Dean hums a soft, content little noise, and Cas smiles into the darkness. If he moves his head just right, the streetlight hits Dean’s face, illuminating it golden. And even though he knows Dean doesn’t like it, he watches him sleep in the honey light for hours. Cas thinks to himself that surely, after tonight, they’re past that. He thinks they ought to be, anyway. Bits of dust dance in the rays, and Cas makes a mental note to heal Dean of any fibers in his lungs before he wakes up. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>★彡</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>It’s about 4am when Dean stirs awake to the sound of plastic dropping against the floor in the kitchen. “Ughhh, Cas?”</p><p> </p><p>Cas’ face looks like a deer in headlights, but with a little more remorse. “Dean! I’m so sorry, these cups all just fell out, I didn’t mean to wake you, oh gosh!”</p><p> </p><p>Dean is groggy and already has a bit of a headache from the drinks, but he laughs quietly. “Don’t be silly, Cas. Get your fucking cup and come to bed.” </p><p> </p><p>Cas hurries over to the bed, but walks up to Dean’s nightstand and places a cup of water there for the morning. “I thought you’d be a bit thirsty in the morning, so I was getting you water before you had your coffee.” </p><p> </p><p>Dean smiles at the fact that Cas knows he has to have his morning coffee first thing after waking up. He smiles wider at the thought that Cas might’ve been making him a hangover cure, sans the pills, because he would just heal him. God, Dean loves it when Cas heals him. He can feel Cas’ grace filter through his entire body, molecule by molecule and cell by cell. It really <em>is</em> divine. </p><p> </p><p>When Cas is finally under the covers on his side, Dean sighs contently. “Goodnight, Cas.”</p><p> </p><p>”Goodnight, Dean. Sleep tight.” </p><p> </p><p>Several minutes follow of Cas listening to Dean’s breath and his heartbeat, waiting to hear him succumb to sleep. Instead, he feels Dean’s hand grab at his own, intertwining their fingers on the mattress between them. Cas is a bit taken aback because Dean is normally so opposed to physical touch, but he soon finds himself rubbing his thumb gently on the back of Dean’s hand. Dean falls asleep feeling the most happy, content, and <em>loved</em> hes felt in a long time. Probably ever. And he falls asleep feeling the most <em>him </em>he’s ever felt. He wonders how it could get any better than this. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Night Two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Dean and Cas fumble through morning wood, falling asleep at work, and feeling vulnerable around one another.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Dean wakes up the next morning, it’s like he’s bathing in the sunlight peaking through the curtains. He can feel the heat of the body next to him, and even though they’re only touching where Dean’s head lays gently on Cas’ outstretched arm, Dean feels his heart speed up a little bit. </p>
<p>He can’t believe he’s out to Cas now. And Cas couldn’t care less. Dean might cry just thinking about it. He doesn’t, instead slowly removing himself from the bed and strutting to the bathroom. He pushes the door closed gently, but doesn’t shut it as he knows it would creak loudly and probably wake Cas up, and God knows the angel needs his beauty sleep. He turns the shower on, letting the steam fog up the mirror and mix with the early morning light to create a calming ambience. </p>
<p>Once in the shower, Dean takes a moment to think to himself about the previous day. In fact, all the days he’s spent with Cas, not just yesterday. He smiles fondly to himself as he washes dust and dirt from his hair and body. He and Cas, he realizes, have a different type of friendship, if you’d even call it that. If Dean had woke up with his head on Sam’s arm, he wouldn’t have thought twice about it. If anything, he’d have pushed Sam back onto his side of the bed. </p>
<p>But with Cas, Dean wanted nothing more than to curl into his side and breathe him in deeply, to treasure him. To truly appreciate him in a way that he knows Cas deserves, but that Dean has been to closeted and too scared to do. </p>
<p>Dean imagines himself cuddled up to Cas, having just woken up similar to how he did this morning, except with limbs entangled and, perhaps, faces pressed gently together. Dean wants to blame the pink tinge on his cheeks on the hot shower, but he knows better than that. </p>
<p>He tries to ignore the rush of blood heading towards a certain area between his legs. It’s like his body knows that morning showers are usually time for, you know, a certain release. Dean knows he’s kept the door open a little and any small noise would make it’s way to Cas’ ears, but he had faith in his ability to cum silently. After spending your life on the road with your brother, you get pretty good at silent orgasms in random bathrooms, hotels, or in Baby late at night. </p>
<p>Dean wraps a hand firmly around his semi-hard dick, stroking from the base to the tip in repetitive, familiar movements. He feels every spot of warm water landing on his body, one by one, and it’s almost overwhelming how good this all feels. </p>
<p>Before he can even stop himself, he’s thinking about Cas. Cas, barely a room away, snoozing in their bed. Cas in his trenchcoat, a white dress shirt and black pants, his hands unfastening his belt quickly. Dean laying on their bed on his back, propped up on his elbows. Cas staring down at him with those blue eyes, dark and tender and wild. Cas, slipping the trenchcoat off, undoing his shirt and shrugging it off, loosening his tie but leaving it dangling around his neck. </p>
<p>Dean’s hand moves faster and faster against his shaft, his other hand pressing firmly against the shower wall. He’s thrusting forwards, his hips betraying him as his hand slaps against the skin on his pelvis. </p>
<p>Cas, unzipping his pants and sliding them down, all while staring longingly into Dean’s eyes. In this fantasy, Dean is naked from the waist down, his cock hard and swollen laying against his the skin on his tummy. Cas doesn’t stray from Dean’s eyes. Dean doesn’t dare to touch himself: he’s locked and loaded and if he moves he might lose it. </p>
<p>Cas, slipping his hand into his boxers, touching himself just out of Dean’s gaze. Cas takes Dean’s cock in his other hand as he strokes them together, fast. Dean’s hips buck forwards, and in under a second of Dean thinking about Cas holding his cock, Dean comes. </p>
<p>“Fuck, Cas.” Dean exhales as white streams of cum hit the shower wall, and he’s panting and his eyes are held tightly shut, and he’s groaning in a low and quiet voice as he feels his cock start to soften in his hands. </p>
<p>Oh. Fuck. </p>
<p>That was definitely not silent, Dean thinks, as he glances towards the door. It’s still mostly shut, and the bed on the other side of it looks the same as when he left if, so Dean shrugs it off and focuses on cleaning himself up. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>★彡</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean is whistling when he comes out of the shower, towel around his waist, his hair dripping water down his bare chest and back. Cas is awake, sprawled across the bed, and his head pops up when he hears Dean talk. “Morning, Cas!”</p>
<p>“Good morning, Dean,” Cas plummets his head back into the pillow before Dean can see his blushing cheeks, and Dean shrugs it off as just another weird Cas thing. </p>
<p>“So, Sammy messaged me about the case this morning. Apparently there’s been another murder, just a few minutes away from us actually. Looks like it might be a vampire, but we’re not too sure, so I thought we’d take a look for ourselves today as FBI agents. Sound good?”</p>
<p>Cas says nothing but a grunt of approval, and Dean raises his eyebrow. “What’s up with you today, Cas? What’s got your panties in a twist?” </p>
<p>Cas lifts his head and meets Dean’s eyes for the first time that morning, his tone completely serious as he replies. “I am not wearing panties, Dean. And even if I was, it makes no sense that they would be twisted. If they’re twisted, you wouldn’t be able to put them on.” </p>
<p>Dean’s eyes flicker to Cas’ lips for a second, and he hopes Cas doesn’t see the blush that makes it’s way onto his cheeks. Dean furrows his eyebrows in a questioning gaze, waiting for Cas to properly answer his question. Cas sighs, his hands fisting the sheets gently as he answers tiredly.</p>
<p>“Nothings up, why don’t you head out and get a coffee while I get ready?” </p>
<p>“Why, you sick of me already, Cas?” </p>
<p>Cas blushes, “Of course not, Dean. I always enjoy your company.” </p>
<p>Dean chuckles as he walks to the front door with Baby’s keys in hand. “Alright, buddy. I’ll bring you a coffee back. You better be out of bed by the time I’m back!” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>★彡</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Cas wakes up that morning to steam spilling out of the bathroom, dancing in the morning light, and the smell of sticky arousal. Cas looks under the duvet; nope, no morning wood. And then it hits him - it’s Dean. And if he listens closer, his Angel senses can hear his soft grunts and the sound of what Cas can only assume is his hand slipping forcefully along his shaft. </p>
<p>Cas usually isn’t one to swear, but fuck. <br/>He’s half hard now, and he feels guilty for listening in on Dean’s private time. That is up until he hears Dean’s moan echo through the shower and into the cramped motel room. </p>
<p>“Fuck, Cas.” </p>
<p>Cas chokes on his breath as he hears his own name. Dean is thinking about him while he touches himself. Dean is thinking about Cas while he touches himself. </p>
<p>To be fair, Cas had never really been interested in sex or anything to do with arousal since residing on Earth. That has changed, he discovered, since he met Dean. Dean was his sexual awakening, if you will. </p>
<p>So it’s only natural that Cas is hard, now. He can feel the tip of his length jutting into the cheap mattress, sending shivers down his spine everytime he moves an inch. He wants to come listening to Dean moan, but he doesn’t dare touch himself. </p>
<p>When Dean comes out of the shower with just a towel on, Cas is still achingly hard. Cas buried his head in the pillow, trying to will his erection to reduce so he could get up and get ready for the day. Dean’s physique wasn’t helping; he’s all muscle, water droplets running over his nipples, an incredible v-line leading Cas’ eyes straight to-</p>
<p>Shit. Cas can’t possibly get up now. </p>
<p>He mumbles his way through their conversation, and as soon as Dean’s gone, he jumps out of bed and into the shower, praying the warm water will calm him down. It does, but he can’t help but think about what just occurred and what it actually means for the two of them. Sure, they’ve always had a bit of a different relationship than other friendships, but Cas had never even though about what that truly means. </p>
<p>Humans are so strange with their distinction between platonic, romantic or sexual feelings, Cas thinks. He’s never been in a situation like this before: in Heaven, sex just doesn’t happen. There’s not arousal, no pining, no morning wood. But on Earth - God. Cas is a little ashamed at how often he, you know, releases. </p>
<p>Cas turns the shower off and dried himself quickly. He could easily Angel magic himself washed and dressed, but he kind of enjoys the mundane routine of it all. </p>
<p>Before long, he’s getting a text from Dean to meet him at the local police station, where the latest murder victims’ body is ready to be viewed. Cas pats his pockets, making sure he has is FBI identification, and blinks himself into Baby, in the parking lot of Regional Springs Police Station. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>★彡</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean and Cas spend most of their day either at the Police Station or the local library. Dean isn’t a big fan of reading, so at 5pm when Cas notices Dean rubbing his temples and fidgeting, he takes over. Dean’s a sore loser and doesn’t like letting people down, but Cas smiles at him like he hung the sun in the sky and gives him a pat on the shoulder. </p>
<p>“You’re tired, Dean. I don’t mind doing your share of reading, too. Go sit down and rest your eyes.” </p>
<p>Dean huffs and does as he’s told, moving to sit in a comfortable, old recliner chair. The leather is a worn brown, ripping and bits flaking off at the edges, but Dean lets his head rest backwards and his eyes drift shut. Cas smiles to himself and puts Dean’s stack of books next to his own. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>-</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Dean? Deeeaannn? I’m so sorry to disturb you, but it’s best we return to the motel for the night. The library is closing.” </p>
<p>Dean blinks awake, prying his limbs from where they’re attached to the sticky leather. Cas is leaning over him, one hand gesturing to the lights being turned off in the library, and the other resting gently on his upper arm. Dean jumps out of the chair, his legs still waking up. Cas uses the hand on Dean’s arm to help steady him, and offers a shy smile. Dean returns it, slightly embarrassed. </p>
<p>“Man, why’d you let me fall asleep? I feel like an ass for sleeping on the job.”</p>
<p>“Don’t worry about it, Dean. You were clearly tired, and as I said, I don’t mind doing your share if it means you take some time off to rest.” </p>
<p>Dean hides the blush on his cheeks by locking eyes with the floor and allows himself to be led to the car. He fingers his pockets for the keys, slips them into the ignition, and they head for the hotel. The sky is pitch black, and Dean wonders how long he was out for. Surely a little library like that wouldn’t be open late into the night, right? </p>
<p>“It’s 8:56pm. The library shut at 6, but I gave the person behind the desk some money for their troubles and they allowed us to stay for a few extra hours. According to them, they had to leave by 9 to watch their favourite reality television show, Real Housewives of Beverly Hills.”</p>
<p>“Huh,” Dean mumbles. “You reading my mind, buddy?” </p>
<p>“Of course not, Dean. I just saw you looking at the night sky and thought you were wondering the time. I know you better than you think, ‘buddy’.” Cas sends a sideways smirk at Dean, and Dean shrugs, turning into the parking of the motel. The neon sign above them glows green and blue in the dark night, and Dean looks over to Cas. He’s not looking at the sign, but at Dean, his features illuminated neon colours. His eyebrows are green, his cheeks are blue, and his lips - God, those lips… </p>
<p>“Dean?” Cas snaps Dean out of his stare with a questioning glance, a small smile still resting on his lips. “Are you ready to go inside?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What? Oh, yeah. Yeah, let’s go.” Dean fumbles with the door handle and makes his way to the front door. He flips through his many keys to find the right one, slipping it in the lock. As he opens the door, he steps back. Cas lifts an eyebrow. “After you, handsome.” </p>
<p>Dean really doesn’t even think about what he’s said until they’re both inside. Cas doesn’t mention it, just blushing and heading straight inside, with Dean following close behind. It’s only when they’re both in bed - Dean in boxer briefs and a white t-shirt and Cas in his button-down and slacks, sans tie and jacket - that someone breaks the silence. </p>
<p>“Handsome, huh?” Cas smirks shyly. He’s reclined on the bed, one leg sticking out from under the sheets. He pushes himself up and rests his head in his hand, leaning on his elbow. </p>
<p>Dean groans and rubs his head in his hands. “Shut up, man. I don’t know why i say things sometimes.” </p>
<p>He peeks at Cas through his hands, and Cas throws his head back, laughing wholeheartedly. Dean hasn’t even brushed aside his awkwardness yet before he’s giggling like a schoolgirl. </p>
<p>They lay there, laughing at nothing in particular anymore. Dean bumps his shoulder into Cas, and when Cas doesn’t move away, he keeps it there. Cas sits up on his elbow again, and Dean follows. </p>
<p>“We’re goddamn crazy.” Dean says with a small smile, shaking his head. “Goddamn idiots, we are.”</p>
<p>“Handsome ‘goddamn’ idiots?” Cas lifts his eyebrow, a challenging smirk on his lips. </p>
<p>Dean catches his eyes and replies. “Yeah, Cas. Handsome goddamn idiots.” </p>
<p>They don’t speak for the next few minutes as they look at eachother. They’ve never really spent this much time just existing with one another before. Dean wants to feel embarrassed or weirded out, but he just doesn’t. He feels more vulnerable than he’s ever felt, but also safer than ever. Here, having plunged into the depths of Cas’ eyes, he just feels like he’s home. </p>
<p>“C’mon,” Dean breaks the silence, reaching his hand up to Cas’ cheek. “Let’s go to sleep.” </p>
<p>Cas smiles and lets himself lean into Dean’s palm for a second. He exhales slowly, “Yeah. Okay.” </p>
<p>Cas lays on his back, and Dean curls up facing him. </p>
<p>“‘Night, Cas.”</p>
<p>Cas drops his head sidewards and smiles warmly at Dean. “Goodnight, Dean. Sweet dreams.” </p>
<p>Dean let’s his eyes flutter closed, feeling warm inside. He feels a hand reach up and brush his hair away from his face, before fingers begin running through his hair. </p>
<p>He falls asleep feeling more content than he’s felt in a long time.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him, and you’re trying to choke down the feeling, and you’re trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you didn’t even have a name for.<br/>Richard Siken.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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